flag of France and a signal of distress. Girard, then quite a young man,
was captain of this sloop, and was on his way to a Canadian port with
freight from New Orleans. An American skipper, seeing his distress, went
to his aid, but told him the American war had broken out, and that the
British cruisers were all along the American coast, and would seize his
vessel. He told him his only chance was to make a push for Philadelphia.
Girard did not know the way, and was short of money. The skipper loaned
him five dollars to get the service of a pilot who demanded his money
in advance; and his sloop passed into the Delaware just in time to
avoid capture by a British war vessel. He sold the sloop and cargo in
Philadelphia, and began business on the capital. Being a foreigner,
unable to speak English, with a repulsive face, and blind in one eye,
it was hard for him to get a start. But he was not the man to give up.
There seemed to be nothing he would not do for money. He bought and sold
anything, from groceries to old junk. Everything he touched prospered.
In 1780, he resumed the New Orleans and San Domingo trade, in which he
had been engaged at the breaking out of the War of the Revolution, and
in one year cleared nearly fifty thousand dollars.
Everybody, especially his jealous brother merchants, attributed his
great success to his luck. While, undoubtedly, he was fortunate in
happening to be at the right place at the right time, yet he was
precision, method, accuracy, energy itself. He left nothing to chance.
His plans and schemes were worked out with mathematical care. His
letters, written to his captains in foreign ports, laying out their
routes and giving detailed instruction from which they were never
allowed to deviate under any circumstances, are models of foresight and
systematic planning.
Girard never lost a ship; and many times, what brought financial ruin to
many others, as the War of 1812, only increased his wealth. What seemed
luck with him was only good judgment and promptness in seizing
opportunities, and the greatest care and zeal in personal attention to
all the details of his business and the management of his own affairs.
[Footnote: See Simpson's "Life of Stephen Girard" (Phila. 1832), and H.
W. Arey's "Girard College and its Founder" (1860).]
XXIV.
HUMILITY.
MEMORY GEMS.
Humility is the true cure for many a needless heartache.--A. Montague
It is easy to look down on others; to look down on ourselves is the
difficulty.--Lord Peterborough
Humility is a divine veil which covers our good deeds, and hides them
from our eyes.--St. John Climacas
Humility is the root, mother, nurse, foundation, and bond of all
virtue.--Chrysostom
Modest humility is beauty's crown; for the beautiful is a hidden thing,
and shrinks from its own power.--Schiller
We pass now from the strong and active virtue of self-help, to the
gentle and passive virtue of humility. In doing so, we quickly discover
that it requires a sound moral judgment to strike the right balance
between humility and self-reliance, and between meekness and
self-respect. The true man is both meek and self-reliant, humble and yet
by no means incapable of self-assertion. The really strong man is the
most thoroughly gentle of men, and the genuinely self-confident man is
the one who is most truly humble in his regard for the rights and
interests of others.
We have great need of this particular grace, and we ought to study its
relation to our life in general; for we should often have reason to be
ashamed of our most brilliant actions if the world could see the motives
from which they spring.
Humility has been well defined as "a simple and lowly estimation of
one's self." When practically thought of, it is mostly looked upon in a
negative light, and considered as the absence of, or opposite to, pride.
The general line of human thinking rather tends in the opposite
direction; but experience teaches that if we wish to be great, we shall
do well to begin by being little. If we desire to construct a strong
and noble character, we must not forget that the greatest lives have
always rested on foundations of humility. The higher your structure is
to be, the deeper must be its foundation.
Humility does not consist in a disposition falsely to underrate
ourselves, "but in being willing to waive our rights, and descend to a
lower place than is our due; in being ready to admit our liability to
error, and in freely owning our faults when conscious of having been
wrong; and, in short, in not being over-careful of our own dignity."
This virtue is the friend of intellect instead of its enemy, because
humility is both a moral instinct which seeks truth, and a moral
instrument for attaining truth. It leads us to base our knowledge on
truth; it also leads us truthfully to recognize the real measure of our
capacity.
All really great men have been humble men in spirit and temper. Such
was Lincoln; such was Washington. Izaac Walton relates how George
Herbert helped a poor man whose horse had fallen under his load, laying
off his coat for that purpose, aiding him to unload, and then again to
load his cart. When his friends rebuked Herbert for this service he said
that "the thought of what he had done would prove music to him at
midnight, for he felt bound, so far as was in his power, to practice
that for which he prayed."
An instance often cited, but always beautiful, is that of Sir Philip
Sidney when mortally wounded at Zutphen as described by an old writer:
"Being thirsty with an excess of bleeding, he called for drink, which
was presently brought him; but as he was putting the bottle to his
mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along, casting up his eyes at the
bottle; which Sir Philip perceiving, took it from his lips before he
drank, and delivered it to the poor man with these words: 'Thy necessity
is yet greater than mine.'" It mattered nothing to Sir Philip that he
was an officer and therefore of higher standing than the poor private.
He humbled himself and did a kindly action, and his noble deed will
never be forgotten.
Humility is not lack of courage; it is not the poverty of spirit which
shrinks from encounter. So far from destroying moral force, it protects
and strengthens it; it sternly represses the little vanities through
which strength of character evaporates and is lost. It is a noble trait
in peasant or in prince, in the cottage of the workman or in the mansion
of the millionaire.
Trajan, the Roman emperor, has set us an example of condescension and
affability. He was equal, indeed, to the greatest generals of antiquity;
but the sounding titles bestowed upon him by his admirers did not elate
him. All the oldest soldiers he knew by name. He conversed with them
with the greatest familiarity, and never retired to his tent before he
had visited the camps. He refused the statues which the flattery of
friends wished to erect to him, and he ridiculed the follies of an
enlightened nation that could pay adoration to cold inanimate pieces of
marble. His public entry into Rome gained him the hearts of the people;
for he appeared on foot, and showed himself an enemy to parade and
ostentatious equipage. His wish to listen to the just complaints of his
subjects, caused his royal abode to be called "the public palace"; and
his people learned to love him as greatly as they admired him.
True humility is not cowardly, cringing, or abjectly weak. It is
strength putting itself by the side of weakness through sympathy, and
not weakness abasing itself in the presence of that which it pretends is
greater than itself. The humble man is the man who feels his own
imperfection, and therefore does not condemn another. The truly humble
say very little about their humility, except in rare moments of emotion,
but live and labor in quietness for the promotion of the public good.
Sincerity and lowliness of spirit have been often commended, as when the
Pythian Apollo rebuked the pompous sacrifice offered at his shrine by a
rich Magnesian, and said that he preferred the simple cake and
frankincense of a pious Achaean which was offered in humbleness of
heart.
Do not allow yourselves to be deceived by false appearances, but lay to
heart the story of the farmer who went with his son into a wheatfield to
see if it was ready for the harvest. "See, father," exclaimed the boy,
"how straight these stems hold up their heads! They must be the best
ones. These that hang their heads down cannot be good for much." The
farmer plucked a stalk of each kind, and said, "See here, foolish child!
This stalk that stood so straight is light-headed, and almost good for
nothing; while this that hung its head so modestly is full of the most
beautiful grain."
"Humility is like the violet which grows low, and covers itself with its
own leaves, and yet of all flowers, yields the most delicious and
fragrant smell."
This virtue is not to be confounded with mean-spiritedness, or that
abject state of feeling which permits a man to surrender the rights of
his character to any one who chooses to infringe upon them. While it
thinks little of personal considerations, it thinks the more of
character and principle. It is really a powerful aid to progress. When
we realize how little we know, we shall earnestly strive to know more;
when we feel how imperfect is our character, we shall make earnest
efforts after improvement.
PHILLIPS BROOKS.
Phillips Brooks may certainly be ranked among the greatest men of the
present generation. He was physically and mentally strong; possessed of
a great personality that compelled him to self-assertion; and was
self-reliant in a degree attained by but few men of his time. He
followed his own convictions, in the face of much opposition, bravely
and unflinchingly. But with all his greatness and self-confidence, he
was gentle, tolerant, sympathetic, and thoroughly appreciative of the
rights of others. He made himself felt everywhere; yet he never indulged
in controversy, and never struck back when criticised. He used his
strength for the good of the weak; he asserted himself in a meek and
humble spirit.
The story of his caring for the children of a poor woman, in the slums
of Boston while she went out for needed recreation, shows that in the
greatness of his manhood he could stoop to the lowliest tasks; while
his unbounded love for children, kept him bright and young down to the
very close of his honored career.
To understand this side of his character, we recommend you to read his
"Letters to Children," of which the following, written to his niece, is
an excellent example:
"VENICE, August 13, 1882.
"DEAR GERTIE:--When the little children in Venice want to take a bath,
they just go down to the front steps of the house and jump off and swim
about in the street. Yesterday I saw a nurse standing on the front
steps, holding one end of a string, and the other end was tied to a
little fellow who was swimming up the street. When he went too far, the
nurse pulled in the string, and got her baby home again. Then I met
another youngster, swimming in the street, whose mother had tied him to
a post by the side of the door, so that when he tried to swim away to
see another boy who was tied to another door-post up the street, he
couldn't, and they had to sing out to one another over the water. Is
not this a queer city? You are always in danger of running over some of
the people and drowning them, for you go about in a boat instead of a
carriage, and use an oar instead of a horse. But it is ever so pretty,
and the people, especially the children, are very bright and gay and
handsome.
"When you are sitting in your room at night, you hear some music under
your window, and look out, and there is a boat with a man with a fiddle,
and a woman with a voice, and they are serenading you. To be sure, they
want some money when they are done, for everybody begs here; but they do
it very prettily and are full of fun.
"Tell Susie I did not see the queen this time. She was out of town. But
ever so many noblemen and princes have sent to know how Toody was, and
how she looked, and I have sent them all her love.
"There must be lots of pleasant things to do at Andover, and I think you
must have had a beautiful summer there. Pretty soon now you will go back
to Boston. Do go into my house when you get there and see if the doll
and her baby are well and happy, but do not carry them off; and make the
music-box play a tune, and remember your affectionate uncle, PHILLIPS."
[Footnote: No really good life of Phillips Brooks has yet been
published; but consult his "Letters of Travel," and the numerous
articles in the best magazines.]
XXV.
FAITHFULNESS.
MEMORY GEMS.
Faithfulness is the soul of goodness.--J. S. White
That which we love most in men and women is faithfulness.--S. Brooke
It is the fidelity in the daily drill which turns the raw recruit into
the accomplished soldier.--W. M. Punshon
The secret of success in life is for a man to be faithful to all his
duties and obligations.--Disraeli
The truest test of civilization is not the census, nor the size of
cities, nor the crops; but the kind of men the country turns
out.--Emerson
Faithfulness is just as possible to boys and girls as to men and women.
To be faithful is to be true to our own convictions,--never acting
without or against them,--and true to our professions,--never breaking
promises, or swerving from engagements.
Exactly what we mean will readily be seen in the following incident:
When Blucher was hastening over bad roads to help Wellington at
Waterloo, his troops faltered. "It can't be done," said they. "It
_must_ be done," was his reply. "I have promised to be there--_promised_,
do you hear? You wouldn't have me break my word!" It was done, as we
all know; and the result of his faithfulness was a great victory for
Wellington, and the complete overthrow of Napoleon.
Faithfulness in the daily routine of school work has laid the foundation
of many a noble character. There is no one thing which will sooner wreck
a young man, and utterly ruin his future prospects, than the reputation
of being lazy and shiftless.
Mr. Ruskin, speaking of the importance of faithfulness among the young
people of England, said, "Could I give the youth of this country but one
word of advice it would be this: _Let no moment pass until you have
extracted from it every possibility. Watch every grain in the
hourglass._"
Sir Walter Scott, writing to his son at school, says: "I cannot too much
impress upon your mind that faithfulness is a condition imposed on us in
every station of life; there is nothing worth having that can be had
without it. As for knowledge, it can no more be planted in the human
mind without labor than a field of wheat can be produced without the
previous use of the plow. If we neglect our spring, our summer will be
useless and contemptible, our harvest will be chaff, and the winter of
our old age unrespected and desolate."
It will be seen, therefore, that all young persons should endeavor to
make each day stand for something. Neither heaven nor earth has any
place for the drone; he is a libel on his species. No glamour of wealth
or social prestige can hide his essential ugliness. It is better to
carry a hod, or wield a shovel, in an honest endeavor to be of some use
to humanity, than to be nursed in luxury and be a parasite.
The emptiness and misery sometimes found in idle high life is
illustrated by the following letter, written by a French countess to the
absent count:
"DEAR HUSBAND:--Not knowing what else to do I will write to you. Not
knowing what to say, I will now close. Wearily yours,
COUNTESS DE R."
Of course we must admit that there is variety in the distribution of
human talents; and yet no one of us is incompletely furnished. Each one
has to be faithful only according to the measure of his trust, and is
not expected to make disproportionate gains. Some men are especially
fortunate both in opportunities and in resources, while to others,
chances of advancement come but seldom; but the man of few
opportunities may be just as faithful as the man who has many.
If you would be accounted faithful, you must do little things as if they
were great, and great things as if they were little and easy. That is
the true road to success; and your place or station in life has very
little to do with it.
Calais is a pleasant seaport town of France, situated on the Straits of
Dover. Large numbers of travelers from England to France, and from
France to England, pass through this beautiful town. Near the center of
it is a lighthouse, one hundred and eighteen feet high, on which is
placed a revolving light that can be seen by vessels twenty miles out at
sea.
At one time some gentlemen were visiting the tower upon which the light
is placed, when the watchman who has charge of the burners commenced
praising their brilliancy. One of the gentlemen then said to him, "What
if one of the lights should chance to go out?" "Impossible!" replied the
watchman, with amazement at the bare thought of such neglect of duty.
"Sir," said he, pointing to the ocean, "yonder, where nothing can be
seen, there are ships going to every part of the world. If to-night one
of my burners were out, within six months would come a letter--from
India, perhaps from the islands of the Pacific Ocean, perhaps from some
place I never heard of--saying that on such a night, at such an hour,
the light of Calais burned dim; the watchman neglected his post, and
vessels were in danger. Ah, sir, sometimes on dark nights, in the stormy
weather, I look out at sea, and I feel as if the eyes of the whole world
were looking at my light! My light go out! Calais's burners grow dim!
No, never!"
Exactly the opposite of this is seen in the incident which follows:
A few years ago, the keeper of a life-saving station on the Atlantic
coast found that his supply of powder had given out. The nearest village
was two or three miles distant, and the weather was inclement. He
concluded that it "was not worth while to go so far for such a trifle."
That night a vessel was wrecked within sight of the station. A line
could have been given to the crew if he had been able to use the mortar;
but he had no powder. He saw the drowning men perish one by one, knowing
that he alone was to blame. A few days afterward he was justly
dismissed from the service.
Faithfulness must especially take into account the feelings and
expectations we have raised in other minds. In this matter we cannot be
too careful. It is said of Lord Chatham that he once promised his son
that he should be present at the pulling down of a garden wall. The wall
was, however, taken down during his absence, through forgetfulness; but,
feeling the importance of his word being held sacred, Lord Chatham
ordered the workman to rebuild it, that his son might witness its
destruction according to his father's promise.
Loyalty is also a form of faithfulness. It is patriotism in practice.
Only the patriotic citizen is loyal to his country. The absence of this
sentiment, in times of national peril, exposes one to indecision and
cowardice, if not to treason. Hence its great value and beauty. It is
indispensable to good citizenship; indeed there is no true manhood and
womanhood without it. It is involved in the American idea of republican
institutions. It is loyalty alone which makes it possible for our
country to continue on its course from year to year.
This form of faithfulness is just now commanding attention throughout
our land. The national flag is flung to the breeze over our
schoolhouses, that American youth may not forget their allegiance to the
government it represents. The stars and stripes floating over the
temples of knowledge, wherein our youth are being trained for usefulness
and honor, is worth far more to us than we realize; and we should always
be ready to hail it with joyous songs and cheers.
CYRUS W. FIELD.
One of the greatest enterprises of modern times, was the laying of the
first Atlantic cable. Cyrus W. Field became impressed with the
feasibility of this project. He induced capitalists to put their money
into it; and then plunged into the work with all the force of his being.
The faithfulness with which he performed his task gained for him the
united praise of two continents.
By hard work he secured aid for his company from the British government;
but in Congress he encountered such bitter opposition from a powerful
lobby that his measure had a majority of only one in the senate.
The cable was loaded upon the Agamemnon, the flagship of the British
fleet at Sebastopol, and upon the Niagara, a magnificent new frigate of
the United States navy; but, when five miles of cable had been paid out,
it caught in the machinery and parted. On the second trial, when two
hundred miles at sea, the electric current was suddenly lost, and men
paced the decks nervously and sadly, as if in the presence of death.
Just as Mr. Field was about to give the order to cut the cable, the
current returned as quickly and mysteriously as it had disappeared. The
following night, when the ship was moving but four miles an hour and
the cable running out at the rate of six miles, the brakes were applied
too suddenly just as the steamer gave a heavy lurch, and the cable broke
and sank to the bottom of the sea.
Directors were disheartened, the public skeptical, capitalists were shy,
and, but for the faith of Mr. Field, who worked day and night, almost
without food or sleep, the whole project would have been abandoned.
A third attempt also resulted in failure, but not discouraged by all
these difficulties, Mr. Field went to work with a will, organized a new
company, and made a new cable far superior to anything before used; and,
on July 13, 1866, was begun the trial which ended with the following
message sent to New York:
"HEART'S CONTENT, July 27.
"We arrived here at nine o'clock this morning. All well. Thank God! the
cable is laid and is in perfect working order. CYRUS W. FIELD."
Such, in brief, is the story of the faithful performance of a seemingly
impossible task. It was a long, hard struggle, covering nearly thirteen
years of anxious watching and ceaseless toil. But the name and fame of
Cyrus W. Field will long be cherished and remembered by a grateful
people.
[Footnote: See Appleton's "Cyclopedia of American Biography," Vol. II.,
pp. 448, 449, and Johnson's "Universal Cyclopedia," Vol. III., p. 351.]
XXVI.
THE SECOND TEANSITION PERIOD.
MEMORY GEMS.
It is the pushing fellows who get well to the front.--William Black
The tricky, underhanded individual pays higher for all he gets.
--W. M. Thackeray
A man ought to be something more than the son of his father.
--J. Staples White
Honor and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part, there all the honor lies.--Pope
The darkest hour in the life of any young man is when he sits down to
study how to get money without honestly earning it.--Horace Greeley
If we have seen that the first transition period in life is that which
marks the passing of the child into the youth, then we may safely speak
of the second transition period as that which marks the passing of the
youth into the man.
Usually there is involved in this change the leaving of the parental
home; the selecting of a business or profession; and, sometimes, the
establishment of a new home, and the assuming of the cares of family
life. It is, therefore, of importance that we should guard all the
several interests of this period with more than ordinary care, and
especially that we should acquaint ourselves with those facts and
principles which have successfully guided others through a similar
experience.
First of all we must make a careful study of our possibilities. Young
men are constantly worrying lest they be failures and nonentities. Every
man will count for all he is worth. There is as steady and constant a
ratio between what a man is, and what he can accomplish, as there is
between what a ton of dynamite is, and what it can accomplish. There is
as much a science of success as there is a science of mathematics. A
great deal depends on the matter of laying in supplies, accumulating
primary stuff. A man is never too young to have that fact put before
him, and never too old to have it rehearsed. He will understand and
appreciate the truth of it before he gets through life; and it is a
great pity for him not to have, at least, a little appreciation of it
near the beginning, so as to frame his initial years in accordance with
it.